


To Be Human

by HomesickAlien



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Dragon Quest XI Act II Spoilers, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomesickAlien/pseuds/HomesickAlien
Summary: striving in vain
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), Hero | Luminary & Maya | Mia (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	To Be Human

**Author's Note:**

> Once again ... I used they/he indiscriminately for the hero. She for Sylv. Blah blah blah.... Enjoy....

_This is Erik’s atonement._

He’d realized it from the very start. The feeling that’s been building since the day they’d met, in a dungeon, the cells beneath a rotting castle. A divine feeling, a feeling of losing his sense of self. 

Sometimes, it comes from enemies. It comes from the knights who refer to him like the devil that does not exist. A corrupted leaf, that begets nothing but misfortune. It’s one to pin blame unto, one to give shame unto, one to mask behind. 

Sometimes, it comes from love. A devotional, supreme love that begs forgiveness. A love of the Goddess, the Goddess’ child, and then… Something else, he can’t put into words. Something so frightening, so terrifying, and so honest that it can’t be understood by humans.

And right now, as well, he is not a person, but a vessel. A vessel of Yggdrasil. 

But, it’s not just for fate that he wants to find happiness for his friends. On the contrary, reuniting with Sylvia once again reminded him of something important. And right now, swinging a heavy blade of sin across the golden tile, it is not for the holy rapture that he is aiming for this monster's heart.

No…

_I want to understand you._

It’s because…

“Eleven…!!”

A place so empty, and so cold. 

  
  


It reminds them of when they’d first met the _Seer._

This time, at least, they’re sure they’re not dead. In fact, the warmth of their grandfather’s heal spell is still running through their veins. Filling their entire body with the shock of near-death. It’s a strange recovery, even now they aren’t used to it, but they know by that feeling of _health_ that they aren’t dead.

But this place is… 

“Mia.”

Empty. Devoid. Except for two.

“Go away.”

Her voice is terrifyingly stern. Unwavering, without fear, completely certain of her feeling’s righteousness. Or, it’s not that it’s _right,_ but that it feels better to live like this. Silently. Alone. With nothing else to fear.

Without having to face it.

The hero— _ex-hero,_ touches their own chest. They close their eyes. They think of a vibrant tree, still floating high above the clouds. They understand.

“You’ve been alone a really long time.”

“I told you to leave.”

“Do you really hate him?”

“Yes. I absolutely hate him. And you, too.”

“And the world?”

“Yes. I hate this whole world. I hate heroes. I hate Yggdrasil. _I hate you._ ”

The hero takes in a long, deep breath. They hum softly. They’re thinking of a time that they must have felt the same. 

Their hometown, ravished. With no one left alive, not even a single life spared. A memory of all their happy faces, of their most important family, all just to take it away. Rip it right out of their chest, and say— _This is your fate._ This is because you are the Luminary.

_I hate the world._

A time of coming face to face with their birthright. A distant memory of a mighty kingdom long forgotten. Even though it’d only been a few short years in hindsight, to the world Dundrasil might as well be as good as legend. It’s beauty torn apart in a single night, where only he had been thought about by Yggdrasil a life worthy of salvation. Not his parents, not the townsfolk, not any particular guard nor royals.

Just the hero. Only the hero, and those that benefit the hero.

_I hate being a hero._

And a time for which even Yggdrasil had betrayed them. All of them, the whole world. Even though he can hear Her voice still, and even as this mark still glows a holy light, and even as Her divine power still resides within him…

She still allowed this rain of suffering to be shouldered on his back. She still collapsed and showed them the meaning of fear. She blessed him for his words of blasphemy;

_I hate Yggdrasil._

And left. Let him be as neither hero nor divination, but a human; One who is weak. One who is fragile. One who begets failure.

_I hate myself._

They can’t seem to accept their grandpa’s words in earnest. _To live with love in your heart._ At first it would appear to be the goal. That if they kept fighting, kept striving to be a _hero_ , that they’d do away with the feelings of hatred in their heart. But right now… 

“Mia.”

“Don’t touch me…!!!”

“Come and dance with me.”

_…I want to understand you._

That’s right. Sometimes, it’s important to feel hatred. Even in a child’s tantrum. Sometimes, it feels better to curse at God, these empty feelings of outrage with no meaning at all, that have lost their meaning long ago.

It must be terrifying for her. To touch. To be in the presence of someone new.

And even still, she takes their hand.

He remains as one, still a human made of flesh. For a moment, she feels relief, a momentary blessing that this curse can be sustained, at least here. There are feelings that can’t be conveyed with words, feelings of frustration, of fear, of loneliness…

_I hate my brother._

It’s easier to hate him than it is the world. Because… Even if the world is cold, there was someone there, and then gone without a word. 

Eleven wants to hate him, too. If only to understand her.

“You can push all of it onto me. Your hatred… Your anger…”

He is the vessel of God, of Yggdrasil, following Her will and burdening the world’s struggles as his own. For he is the one who’s committed the greatest sin of all, the sin of killing God.

This is the Hero’s atonement.

“But please, don’t ever say you hate him.”

Even if the feeling isn’t eternal, for siblings to feel such grief alone…

The hero’s empty chest is aching. Maybe, it hurts a little more for Erik. He wonders why it’d taken so long for him to admit it. That is, he never did, and Eleven is the one carrying the guilt of forcing these memories out of him. 

“He never even came back to visit. All this time… All this time…!”

_I understand you._

_I hate him, too._

She falls her head against Eleven’s shoulders. Her tears are heavy like gold. Right now, she’s taken the form of a monster, but this puppet of the devil retains its heart. She knows both hatred, and love.

As they share the feeling of hatred, so too will she remember love.

…

…..

………..

“Eleven…!!”

The reflection of light against these golden walls is piercing. For a moment, his vision is little more than a blurry mess of faces and flurries, but when he thinks to cover his head with the back of his hand…

_It’s glowing. The mark is…_

Yggdrasil is dead, yet still the power of a _hero_ resides within him. These complex feelings of _hatred_ and _love_ are beyond Gods, yet for a moment he thinks he has connected with Her, as well. He hopes that next time, Yggdrasil will think more of her children than passing leaves in the wind.

He hopes She learns to live with love in Her heart.

The hero stands up, wobbling on their two feet. They cling to Jade’s shoulder, which they now realize was the voice calling out to them. For the first time since they’d met, the hero thinks to say; “Thanks…. Sis…”

Erik is also pouring out his heart. One who believes in the will of God more than any other, that truly believes in the fate that brought them together…

“I’m so sorry, Mia…”

And still forgot the confession. To those that can not admit to their sins, forgiveness lies in purgatory. 

The first time they’d come to this cold place, a part of the hero wished to prod at Erik. To ask him why it is he’d become so distant. Now, they think, it would have been nice to come say hello to his sister just once, before departing. Maybe, the _Lord of Shadow’s_ words wouldn’t have reached her heart if they did. They wonder if Erik is thinking the same. 

“I’m so sorry…”

He’s clinging to this golden monstrosity with all his life. Desperately trying to reach her corrupted heart. He knows it’s an impossible task for a normal human, so weak and futile in nature, and still he tries to speak the words he’d neglected to offer in the past. These words are also worthless.

Eleven stumbles forward, releasing Jade in favor of dragging his body with his sword. To mediate between humans and monsters, as the vessel of a dying Tree… There’s a reason his hand is still burning.

Falling over atop Erik, barely held up by his lithe body, he speaks not with words, but with actions. Pressing his left hand upon Erik’s, that itself rests upon Mia’s heart… 

if Yggdrasil wills for three sinners to bear a second chance at life, so be it.

———————— ＊ ————————

Mia isn’t so lonely, anymore.

There’s still a distant leap between her heart and her false sense of self, but her attitude seems about the same. Both bold-faced, and coquettish. 

There’s aspects the Hero becomes acutely aware of, about her hands. The way they’re often held up in the air, or the way she recoils when the girls are doting on her. A little sister like Serena, or older sisters like Jade and Sylv. There are things the lot of them all have in common, but…

The hero closes his eyes. A memory that isn’t his replays viciously in his head.

_“Are you sure about this? Bringing Mia along…”_

_The hero nods, spinning around the orb on a table at an empty tavern in the daytime. The scent of liquor replaced with the fumes of alcohol. There’s no reason for the girl to suffer alone. It’s imperative, it hurts their heart that Erik would think of abandoning her again._

_Even if there isn’t anywhere else to go._

_“What does home mean to you?”_

_A strange, bitter wind passes through them._

The Hero doesn’t ask her to fight. But given everything that’s happened, they do ask her to train. Even if it’s just to defend herself. They think of ways to clash without ever touching hands. They give her a great sword that towers over her. 

With enough diligence, with enough practice, there are means to cope with fear. 

A little bird has lost half its life encased in gold. The same as her. Even when the spell is broken, guilt remains.

Today, onward, you are learning to be human, again.

———————— ＊ ————————

Mia has a strong aptitude for magic.

This is what _Veronica_ believes. That is, the spirit for which resides in her younger sister. Touching not Mia’s hand, but her heart; It’s an overwhelming power that can’t be utilized at all. Not like this. Not in fear.

At first he had thought it best to train with weaponry, but perhaps the greatest means of battling without ever getting too close… Is this. Is magic. In that case, 

“...”

The hero sits at the campsite forge in contemplation. It seems now everyone’s gone to rest, the sun has also long bid its farewells in the sky. Erik is often telling him to sleep earlier, that if he sleeps at night they wouldn’t have to drag around his sluggish body in the morning everyday. But to Eleven, it’s about the only time they get to think clearly. 

It isn’t silence; There’s the sound of light rain drops tap dancing across the leaves. Animals, outside of the camp, crackingly twigs and gravel. And the sound of this hammer pounded against a magic forge. Somehow, it still isn’t turning out right. Something’s missing.

In himself, or… 

“Hey.” He turns his head, for confirmation. He can generally recognize them by their touch alone, their distinct voices he’s become partial too, that when even one were missing left a second hole in his chest. This one is pulling back his hair, wiping the sweat from his forehead, and putting it up in a ribbon that had been a gift from her late mother.

Sometimes, it feels like they were all meant to come together; Stray dogs missing something important. And now, Serena, as well…

“Can’t sleep, can you?”

“...Speak for yourself.”

She flicks his head.

“Who’s the one who sleeps until the afternoon, then?”

“Isn’t it better to travel in the evening? It’s the best for training.”

“Most would rather sleep.”

“...And the stars. You can’t see the stars tonight.”

He understood Erik’s infatuation for them in the times they aren’t glittering so brightly in the sky. He understood, when he’d peered into Erik’s memories uninvited; _I’m really sorry._ He keeps apologizing, to the point that Erik pokes his side, asks him if this is his best impression of Prince Faris he can pull, bowing his head and the likes. That’s hardly the case, it’s a real guilt to betray such a bond of trust between partners, to show someone’s memory as though they were nothing but a motion picture show. 

But, it’s context over days they otherwise never thought twice of. In particular, the feelings between Erik, and the sky.

He wonders if Erik ever notices his smile, riding on the back of Cetacea. 

“The stars… Maybe that’s what’s missing.”

He muses, mostly to himself. Yet still comes a response. 

“I believe it’s going to clear up before morning. I heard it from the cows.”

“The cows…”

“That’s right. And look,” She guides his head upward to see, “The rain’s already clearing up. The moon is falling down. I think you should try it just one more time.” 

“...”

The hero returns their eyes to the forge. There’s a strong aura they can’t express with words. She’s right, it must be asking them too, to try one more time. To offer anything at all to ease a troubled soul.

With one’s sister’s confidence, is born a gift for another’s.

Heavy gloves imbued with the power of magic, they’re best for mages to bring out the best of their abilities. For him, it isn’t a matter of power, though; It would be best if Mia could simply relax. To rest, until her dreams are happy once more. But it would be just as nice if she could reach out whenever she’d like, and hold onto all their hands again. If it is enough to distract the memories of a curse, he’d be fine enough with this.

Well, he’d made them extra-special. A gift that matches just how spoiled a girl she is. They leave them quietly, at her pillow, and spend the rest of the evening gazing at the sky. After all this, it has become clearer, but there’s still a blight on this world that can’t be forgiven. 

_Mordegon._ The Lord of Shadows… 

They still have a sword to forge, and wishes to fulfill, but for once it seems his obligations are clearly outlined for him. There’s no more mysteries shrouding the duties of the _Luminary_ to save the world. Everything is falling into place. 

Everything… Except the time after.   
  


———————— ＊ ————————

_What does home mean to you?_

At the time, for the hero at least, it had seemed like an obvious confession. Spinning around a room full of girls, some close, some distant, they realize it takes a special kind of directness to reach a man’s heart. They pass him around like a ball across the court.

A woman that’s always testing new makeup concepts on him, who tells him all her stories of heartbreak. By cruel men without any delicacy. Erik isn’t such a man. If anything, at times the hero thinks Erik is a touch too delicate.

A pass around the room to Sylv, who dresses him up in another frivolous outfit. Sylv has a way of taking away the hero’s inhibitions without any special influence. She simply is herself, and now more than ever confident in her dreams, her beliefs, her wishes… It comes with age, she says to him; It’s the only time she’d ever accept her age. 

In terms of training, Jade is perhaps better at a different sort of battle. But she doesn’t lack infatuation for these silly little games of _love,_ of _romance,_ of innocent proposals from princes to princes. Maybe Serena’s had her own influence on Jade, even shyly standing behind her, he can tell exactly what Serena’s thinking. In fact, he could even take a guess at a novel she’d read she must be likening this to. _Once upon a time,_ he’s sure he’d read those words more times than he could count… A princess awakened with a kiss, the spell that’s broken by the stroke of midnight, a prince loved by the whole world… No, no, this fairytale is a different sort. It’s not a fairytale at all, is it?

The two push them by their backside, to a girl who’d offered to play the role of the second prince. The prince of thieves, the captor of the Hero’s heart. She’d been dancing outside to keep warm, in a dress that certainly can’t be comfortable in these temperatures, yet suits the image of their love extremely accurately. 

“E-E-Erik… I… I-I……”

This must be the most they’ve struggled to get their words out since the start of their journey. It shouldn’t be so hard, it’s not as though the man of the hour is even in the room, yet the thought of ever saying these words has their soul leave their body completely. Looking up to Mia, who's laughing upon the table, they remember suddenly the petrification of battle. 

They haven’t even forged the ring. It’d been a terrible idea to allow them to read it. 

_Hey, what’s this say?_

Mia…

_It’s none of your business._

It’d slipped from the table.

_Is this some kind of love letter?_

Jade…

_Absolutely not._

Absolutely one they’d thought to send long after parting ways. A time where they might never have to face rejection, or simply hang on to these feelings silently after giving words to them…

_So that’s it, huh…_

The rest, well, is now a performance of an embarrassing curse placed upon the hero. The curse of love. 

“I want you……. T-t—!”

“Come on, lil bro!”

“You have to speak clearly!”

“I…! I…!!”

That’s it, darling!”

“Say it!”

_Idiot hero. Stupid brother._

These feelings are completely transparent.

“I WANT YOU TO BE MY BRIDE!”

Ahh, the word bride had just slipped out. It is a wedding rehearsal, after all. 

It’s become deafeningly silent. The hero is still caught up in the adrenaline of finally confessing his feelings out loud, even if only to a stranger. But, he’d expected a little more praise than this. Is it that everyone’s as dumbfounded as he is? No, that is… 

“Am I… Interrupting something?”

For the first time in quite some time, the hero’s only response is to scream. Perhaps enough so that the whole continent had heard him. Enough for Jade to cover his mouth.

“Erik!!”

The words are muffled by Jade’s iron-grip. Somehow, the only one who’s laughing is Mia. In fact, it was her who had suggested the hero’s accumulated bad luck offering to take her along; _You’d better do it in the inn room. Lock the doors. My brother’s sensitive, after all._

That’s right. Wasn’t that how it went? Yet, they’d all ended up at the tavern, instead. Drinking away their worries, celebrating to a future that would soon be in their hands, again. To paradise, to peace…

“It’s alright. I’ll go.”

He holds up his hands awkwardly, like he were the one committing a crime. It’s true in one sense, but… 

What’s this feeling? Is it shame? Is it embarrassment? Is it love? Yes, for a time, he’d also forgotten what it means to be human. With such a heavy weight still weighing on his shoulders, that tomorrow would be the day they tie up all their loose ends, and finally face that _Lord of Shadows…_

Today, he is just a young bachelor aiming for another man’s heart. It’s the fleeting feeling of immature love. Not the love of the Goddess, or the love of a hero, but the love of one foolish person in a still great and vast world.

“Erik…!!”

They slip as soon as they exit the building, these still icy tiles that pave the outdoors of Snifleheim unbearable for the one who’d grown up in the countryside. It’s a beautiful walkway, but far from ideal to traverse. And impossible for their partner to catch them given the difference in bodies, he lightens their fall by aiming for a pile of snow instead of the stairs. The hero groans as they raise themself up, hands burning as they bury themself deep within the snowfall. Erik simply laughs at them, runs through their hair to relieve them of excess powdery snow. The hero shakes their head at the sudden touch, and practically shouts unintentionally as they call out his name again.

“Erik!!”

“It’s fine.”

“No, I—”

Erik presses a finger to the hero’s lips. Quietly, he silences him, and with his other hand he takes the hero’s in an attempt to keep them slightly warm. He’s pointing, upwards, to the nightsky and…

_Æsteinn…_

He remembers hearing it’s legend, first from a lovebird couple before the fall, and then again on their travels from Erik’s little sister.

 _Isn’t it gross?_ She’d said, _Confessing your eternal love in front of everyone like that…_ Stressing the words; _Eternal love,_ as if it were the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. That sounds about right for a teenage girl; She’d stick out her tongue and make gross reactionary noises. 

_I think it sounds nice._

She’d say they’re as much of a romanticist as Erik is. But that’s not exactly the case…

“Erik…”

The hero sits up in Erik’s lap, although he thinks it might be better to get up from the snow, maybe Erik’s more comfortable than he is in this environment. It strikes him the most as he thinks to run his sleeve over his leaking nose, just leaving it wetter by the melted snow over his wrist. He rubs his face over his shoulder instead, before Erik forces him up. 

Those eyes that shine like icy jewels. He feels just by confessing before Erik, in any land, or any time, that promise would be engraved eternal by those eyes. A harsh wind passes between them; His face is dry, and reddening, and dizzy… He lets his hands down, releases Erik from his grip. What was all that training for? He’s already forgotten the motions of their rehearsal earlier.

“Erik…”

“Have you learned to say anything else?”

Eleven makes a sour face; Closing their eyes as they lean their head back. “I…” No, they really haven’t, but they can’t say that. Before they can speak up again, Erik’s hands return to cup their face. His fingers brushing lightly across the hero’s ears.

Maybe, they don’t have to say it at all. This is Erik, after all. The first person they’d met in their travels. Their partner. Their dearest friend. Their… 

“I’d much rather be your husband than your bride.”

That word, even now just the thought of it flushes his face. It could apply to anyone and be just as embarrassing, but there’s a particular depth to it’s meaning in this moment that the hero truly is left speechless. They say the easiest word that’s ever come to them.

“Y… Yes…”

_I’d like that…_

He’s stuck, like the flesh that touches ice. His hands hover over Erik’s. He wonders what it is he’s supposed to do in this moment. _Should I kiss him? Should I embrace him? Or…_

Simply remain, stagnant as always. A sorry excuse for a hero, and a person. They try not to think of tomorrow, and instead the warmth of all the girls’ hands that have pushed them this far, as they close their eyes tightly and lean forward.

A delicate kiss, for a delicate man. As quiet as they seem to think they are, the hero can hear the girls watching from the entrance. In fact, they’re certain a crowd has amassed since they’d stupidly run after him. It really still feels like a rehearsal, a performance, but it just as much feels right.

“About home…” Erik says, just loud enough for the hero’s ears. “I’ve been thinking, it wouldn’t be so bad to settle down in Cobblestone for a while.”

The hero nods. Aggressively. He can hear all their laughter.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to live just like this, forever. But as the pause in their journey is released, their task remains still certain. To bring back a smile to this world, eternally.

And then, spend everyday like this.

———————— ＊ ————————

After a long journey, there still remains a heavy aftermath to clean up after.

From the beginning, he’s known he’d someday be tasked with returning Cobblestone to the comforting home he’d grown up in. But Heliodor, and Dundrasil, were far from his mind back then. In fact, even after all this, and even after reconciling with his birth parents, he still doesn’t feel much like a prince. He’s not sure he could ever tend to such a mighty kingdom like that. 

But, the hero is the one everyone has formed a bond with. They exist as the medium between all of Erdrea. And personally, they’d also like to see the land for which they’ve only witnessed in a vision. Even if it’s just a wandering ghost’s kingdom. 

For now, he focuses on _home._

When the question is returned to him— _What does home mean to you?—_ He admits, now, that he isn’t certain of any one answer. It isn’t where he was born, and it isn’t the place he grew up in, not because of the circumstances, but because _home_ has never been a single place at all. Perhaps it’s the roots of Yggdrasil that run through their veins, or all these memories that are not their own that have corrupted their vision… It feels as though all of Erdrea is his home. No one place feels in any particular way more special than the other, none except for…

_Yggdrasil._

He’s looking up to Her again, from the tree for which his journey began. Still standing high up into the sky, with Yggdrasil’s arms wrapped around its base. This loving embrace that now feels so much more emotional than their childish visions of the past… This time, when they look up to Her, they smile softly.

To an age stitched with painful memories, weaved with a future of smiles. Until the day they return this blade, it would seem this would be their final prayer.

“Hey..!! Hero-boy.”

He turns his head at the sudden rude calling. Accepted only by one. A sister who’s slowly returning to her former self. Crude. Dismissive. Immature. Although they’re only related by way of marriage, somehow Eleven feels he’s looking into a mirror. On the contrary, when he thinks of Erik, as siblings, Erik and Mia are nothing alike. Erik is too soft, too romantic, too devotional. 

He wonders how Erik ever faired alone, a thief, or a runaway. It’s one that’s hard to dwell on, and they don’t like asking about it, but somehow still they’re losing themself in the thought. Walking about a half-reconstructed village, they realize they haven’t heard a word of anyone’s sayings. Passing greetings, empty small talk… Or tears welling in this young girl's eyes. 

He stops. She’s staring at her hand, again. It’s bare.

“...Earlier.”

“...?”

“I… The dog… When it came to me…”

The hero takes a long, deep breath, a sigh; The memory of that terrifying place returns to them. A castle of gold, filled with petrified corpses. Even if life returned to all of them, the silence of several months can’t possibly be forgotten. It’s a ringing in all of that cold place’s ears. And for the one who acted on selfish greed…

Life is a truly precious thing. Yet, not all life shares the same endearment, or attachment, as that of family. Her life was also met with that fate, years and years spent in waiting. Shaking hands, and eyes of fear… 

The chill that had run down their spine that day returns to them, again. They look down at their own hands, first the mark that bears their birthright, and then the infinite thin scarring and calluses of their palm. They speak of a journey that tells many tales. What would Yggdrasil wish to tell him? In a time of empty bliss, no longer do her roots offer any guidance.

Today is the day the Hero must make a decision for himself.

“.............Give me your hand.”

“Huh?”

He holds out his hand with an unwavering smile. It’s soft, and gentle, with the light of Yggdrasil filtering through those starlit leaves and branches. This one who has lost all his humanity… 

In place, on their back, and within the empty cavern of their chest, is the Heart of the Tree of Life. She places her palm over his.

“..........See. I’m still here.”

They speak clearly, in ways they haven’t since they were a child. It’s the best they can do for now, to be strong in light of a child’s weakness. There must be more waiting for her than empty platitudes of forgiveness. He wants to offer her a future grasped by her own hands. These hands that can do more than cause harm… 

“It’s alright… To pet the dog.”

She squeezes his hand lightly, enough to isolate this moment and replace the fear of a child’s trauma with a memory of peace-of-mind. When she lets go of him, her eyes alight with a fire that he recalls from Erik’s memories. A difficult, troublesome teenage girl. 

She runs off with empty goodbyes. Eleven smiles, and holds out his hand in a motionless wave, before he thinks to be more like an older sibling and call out; _Don’t stay out too late!!_ Don’t forget to come home for dinner, to sleep early, things Eleven never did at such an age. Erik has a bit more training when it comes to being an _older brother._ For the hero, it’s still a heavy weight in his chest, his heart sinks to even think of her silent suffering… 

He wonders if he’ll survive starting a family. He’s still being forced out of bed by Erik, after all. Either via a waste of magic, or the sweet sound of his voice to his ear… 

Well, this might also constitute _starting a family._ Although it still feels unofficial, their natural affinity for one another remains an eternal truth. As true as the sun will rise in the morning, and set in the afternoon; Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. 

Right now, there’s still an awkward hurdle to pass. With everyone around to help the reconstruction; Hendrik’s impeccable timing for interruptions, complete ignorance, or the kids that are often pulling them apart to train and to play. Even Gemma seems to enjoy teasing him until he’s red in the face, perhaps this is divine retribution. 

But still, for the time being, it feels like home. It feels like being young, again. They smile, warm with the sun on their back. Today, as well, they're starting to remember what it’s like to simply be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my silly words for the last time this year. It’s been difficult, but my slowburn love affair with dq11 has been one of the better aspects.  
> The first fic… I just wrote something unrefined, and threw it out to the wolves… At the time, I thought I’d never do it again, but here I am, doing it again. Embarrassing…  
> Back then, my real life friend said that fic was “the best thing (I) ever wrote.” I definitely don’t think that!! But I cherished those words, and I’ve continued working hard on improving my writing… I’m grateful to my friends for supporting me… When I posted, it was just me, so it was really nerve wracking… Even now, I lay down after I post because I feel so anxious. But I reread everyone’s comments often and smile. I hope I can keep making lots of people happy with my silly little words.  
> I’m sorry for rambling, but thank you as always for reading. Please have a safe new year. Feed me the new year comments. Cheers~


End file.
